


Feathers, Paper Football, and Spiked Punch

by EndOfStoryGoodbyeTheEnd



Series: 10 Detentions Dished Out to Troublemakers [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 15:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15688593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndOfStoryGoodbyeTheEnd/pseuds/EndOfStoryGoodbyeTheEnd
Summary: “'We haven’t officially met, I’m George.''Nice to meet you,' she replied. 'Angelina. I know your brother-''I’m so sorry,' he said, deadpan.She snorted, which made him grin.Angelina sincerely regrets a lot of her life.





	Feathers, Paper Football, and Spiked Punch

In retrospect, Angelina Johnson had some judgement problems. 

Even before she had known them personally, she had known them as the two lanky redheads who had set fire to the Potions teacher’s greasy hair. 

Ever since she had met them, she always seemed to narrowly miss getting in trouble around them. For some reason, she didn’t mind that much. It was like a challenge, to see how close she could get to detention without actually getting one. So far she had a relatively spotless record. 

She had met them in Charms, a few weeks into First Year. George had somehow set her friend Alicia’s robes on fire and burned her wrist. Flitwick had shooed them both off to the hospital wing, and paired up Angelina and Fred for the time being. 

For thirty minutes, Fred had her in stitches as they both tried to work out wingardium leviosa. He cracked jokes and teased her, and Angelina found herself laughing harder than she had in a long while. It was nice. She had missed a good chance to laugh. Angelina mastered the charm before Fred, not the first in the class but one of the students leading the pack, earning her a squeaky “Well done!” from Flitwick. Fred followed quickly behind, and with them both instructed to practice, they spent the rest of the class sending small objects hurtling at their fellow students and Flitwick. It was all good and fun and Angelina was laughing so hard her sides hurt until Fred knocked off Flitwick’s hat with a ball of parchment. 

They both froze, not even daring to breathe. 

Flitwick sighed, bending down precariously from his stack of books to scoop his hat up off his desk, dusting it off. “Mr. Weasley, Miss Johnson, I daresay you two have practiced enough to become proficient.” 

Angelina was glad her skin tone hid her blush; Fred grinned widely. 

A week later in Care of Magical Creatures, the two boys stole some of the shiny jewelry and coins that the class had been required the leave at the front. They wanted to see the reaction of the animal they were studying that day, the niffler. Angelina’s arm was scratched when it lunged for the chain hanging out of George’s pocket. Thin ribbons of blood started welling up on her skin, dripping scarlet into the grass. Alicia, her partner, who hated the sight of blood, had to put her head between her knees to keep from passing out. Angelina simply accepted the piece of cloth Kettleburn offered her and wrapped her arm. He sent her off to the hospital wing to be healed as it really was bleeding quite a bit. Angelina knew she would’ve been fine, but Kettleburn pointed at one of the Weasleys and ordered he accompany her, scowling about the jewelry and telling them they were lucky he didn’t give them detention.

The walk up to the castle in a comfortable silence. It was impossible, even at age eleven, to feel uncomfortable around either of the jovial boys. Eventually, he broke the quiet. 

“We haven’t officially met, I’m George.” 

“Nice to meet you,” she replied. “Angelina. I know your brother-” 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, deadpan. 

She snorted, which made him grin. 

A day later in Charms Fred sat down behind her, as per usual, and threw a ball of paper at the back of her dark head. She turned to face him. 

“Where’s your brother?” She asked, because she really rarely saw one without the other.

Fred shrugged. “Stealing a bunch of those feathers from Flitwick’s closet.”

“I see,” Angelina decided not to ask. “I met him the other day.” 

Fred’s face grew serious. “I’m so sorry.” 

“He said the same thing when I mentioned you!” She laughed. 

Fred grinned as George came hurrying over and dropped into the seat next to his brother, carrying a couple bags of large white feathers. “Angie, take these!” He muttered urgently, shoving them into her arms. 

“What, why?” She spluttered, stunned by both the feathers and the nickname, which was new. Her family always called her Lina, no one had ever called her Angie. 

“Just do it!” He hissed. 

She was about to question him again when Flitwick came tottering over. “Boys…” he squeaked, a knowing hint in his voice. “Have you seen any of my feathers for class?”

Angelina’s eyes widened and she folded her arms over her lap, where the bags George had shoved at her still resided. 

“No, not since last class Professor,” Fred said innocently. 

“We’ve just been sitting here chatting with Angie, Professor,” George agreed, and they both held up their empty hands innocently. 

Angelina put on a smile. “Here with me, sir,” she lied smoothly, keeping her hands flat in her lap, pressing the feathers down. 

Flitwick sighed. “Alright Miss Johnson. If you say so,” he headed off back to his desk to start class. 

Angelina turned around in her seat to find both boys beaming at her. She smiled sheepishly. 

“Our hero!” George proclaimed, and Angelina found herself blushing invisibly again. 

“Angel Angelina!” Fred continued. 

“You’re welcome,” Angelina shushed them, shoving the bundles of feathers across their desk when she was sure Flitwick’s back was turned. Fred stuffed them in his bag. She turned back to face the front of the room. Then, because she was curious and couldn’t help herself, she asked, “What do you need them for?”

George shook his head. “You can’t know all of our dirt, Angie! But don’t worry. It doesn’t involve you.”

He was right. It didn’t. When it rained feathers over the Great Hall while honey sprayed from the tables, both somehow missed her entirely. Her sticky friends looked at her in surprise, and she just grinned. Both boys received detention, but no one ever questioned her. 

In Second Year, the three tried out for the Quidditch team. Fred threw the quaffle at her head to ‘test her reflexes’ and George somehow managed to trip the Seeker’s girlfriend while in the air on a broom. Charlie Weasley, the aforementioned Seeker, was good natured, yelling at his brothers to get off their brooms before they hurt someone on their own team.

Angelina was there when some sore losers had accused the new Captain Oliver Wood of favoritism, as his team was composed of three Weasleys and one of their girlfriends. Angelina might have agreed if she hadn’t seen them play. They were all very good, and were the very best for the team. Even if Fred and George distracted everyone and messed around too much. 

They messed around to the point that they nearly got her detention a few weeks after they all made the team. Professor Mcgonagall showed up to talk to Oliver about something in the lull at the end of practice. Her visit was timed poorly, as George was in the middle of bewitching the golf balls Charlie practiced with to follow Angelina around like little ducklings after their mother. She stole Fred’s bat and began to swat them off her tail towards George, who ducked as one narrowly missed his head. 

“Miss Johnson!” 

Professor McGonagall’s dubious voice stopped Angelina and the trail of golf balls following her in their tracks. 

“Yes, Professor?” she said nervously as one of the balls began bumping against her shoulder blade gently. 

“What are you doing?” Professor McGonagall asked. 

“Training,” George supplied, in a tone that implied this should be obvious. 

Fred nodded seriously. “Angelina is the best beater on the team, Professor,” he said seriously. 

Professor McGonagall sighed and raised her wand. The golf balls hit the ground with little thuds. “Next time, focus on practicing your own skills instead of teasing each other, alright?”

The trio nodded enthusiastically. 

Professor McGonagall considered the group one last time. “Alright, now back to work!” she swept off, and Angelina could finally breathe again. 

In Third Year, Professor Sprout almost caught the boys stealing mandrakes. In response, Angelina pushed Lee Jordan’s devil snare clipping pot off the table, shattering it completely. In the chaos that ensued, the boys were able to sneak off a mandrake or two. A day later, Angelina heard from Marietta Edgecombe that someone had put a couple of uncovered screaming mandrakes in the Slytherin dormitory. On the same night, someone had also put a chocolate frog on Angelina’s nightstand. 

How they had gotten it in, she had no idea. Maybe they floated it in through the window, or asked someone in her room to bring it to her. Either way, she grinned when she saw it in the morning. 

She had no idea when she had decided to cover for the twins, but by Fifth Year it happened almost weekly. As two of her best friends, she spent quite a bit of time with them. This was ample time for them to get into trouble. During History of Magic, she reffed the class wide tournament of paper football George had started. According to their father, it was a game muggles played to deal with boredom. She didn’t know if muggles appointed someone to monitor for fair play (for example, if someone had charmed their paper airplane to fly a little too straight) but when George seemed a little too cocky after his victory, she jumped in to challenge him.

Bins only got close to catching them when idiot Lee Jordan made a bad shot directly through him. Everyone had to freeze and act normal as Bins slowly turned around to servail the class. After a few agonizing seconds, he swiveled back. 

Angelina reeled back and threw the paper football at the back of George’s head. He whipped around and gave her a wounded look, mouthing ‘ow.’ 

Angelina grinned at him. 

When she was seventeen, Sixth Year, Fred asked her out. She’d be lying if she said she expected it. She’d known the twins for six years now, and by this point she thought they got off solely from pranks and mischief. She knew George had kissed Katie one time when they were fifteen, but she figured it was a simple anomaly, a blip on the radar. 

So when he asked, she was rather… flattered. 

She’d been hoping to be Hogwarts champion. She’d just become of age, and when Fred and George’s hilarious age potion had failed spectacularly, both had given her their well wishes towards being champion. When it hadn’t worked out, she’d had fun cheering for Harry along with most of Gryffindor. He was her teammate. She liked to think she knew him well enough to think he wouldn’t put his name in the goblet. She’d seen Harry play. He wasn’t the type of player to risk the team to show off, and she didn’t think he’d do that in this case either. 

In retrospect, she was glad it hadn’t worked out. She got to focus on Quidditch and schoolwork and the more fun aspect of the year, the ball. 

Which was what Alicia was talking about when Fred asked. 

“Angelina, who do you think is going to ask me?” Alicia had questioned, her tone full of thinly veiled concern. She was the picture of stress, pacing around in front of Angelina and chewing her lip. 

Angelina, who was sitting against the wall next to the fire braiding her hair, gave her a look. “I don’t know. Listen, if you’re so worried about this, ask someone.”

Alicia gaped at her for a second. “Ask someone? Are you kidding me?” 

Angelina rolled her eyes. “Why not? Sometimes the best way-”

“Oi! Angelina!” 

She cut herself off at the sound of Fred’s voice, peering around Alicia to look at him, her fingers pausing in her braid. He was sitting across the common room, at a table with George, their younger brother, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. 

“What?” she called back. It wasn’t unusual for one of the twins to yell at her across the room. They were loud, theatrical people. Alicia, part of their group and also friends with the twins, sighed at being interrupted and shifted out of the way of way of Angelina’s view. 

“Want to come to the ball with me?” he asked casually, his voice loud so she could catch it. 

She raised her eyebrows, then thought about it for a second. She had never thought about Fred or George as anything other than friends before. They were part of her group; they played exploding snap together, had most of their classes together, and ate dinner while loudly discussing how terrible Snape’s homework was.

However, if anyone could make this formal, fancy ball fun, it was Fred Weasley. He was her friend. He was loud, clever, mischievous, and never failed to make her laugh. 

He didn’t look half bad either. 

“All right, then,” she called, equally as casually, “So why can’t you ask someone like that?” she asked Alicia, lowering her voice back to its usual volume and returning her gaze to her friend. 

Alicia was standing with her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised. 

“What?” Angelina asked, flushing invisibly. 

Alicia continued to look at her incredulously. 

“Well,” Angelina returned to her braid. “If you don’t want my advice, why ask.”

She was unable to keep the small grin off her face. 

 

Fred asked Angelina to help spike the punch. He told her in Charms, a week before the ball. 

Alicia had asked George for a nosebleed nougat earlier that day, because she had a potions essay she was worried about and wanted to look over. Then he had set Lee Jordan’s sleeve on fire for no apparent reason. When asked, he claimed he was bored. So Fred was sitting alone, behind Angelina, also alone. 

It was funny, she started to think about the logistics of spiking the punch before the question even registered. Her dress robes were a deep purple, so she could easily hide a transfigured bottle as a piece of jewelry of some sort. 

Then it hit her.

She rested her chin on her crossed arms and looked directly at him. “Is that why you asked me?” she questioned, “Because I’m of age, and I can get you firewhiskey?” 

Fred’s mouth dropped open. “What, no!” 

She gave him a look. 

“No, Angie, I promise! I invited you because you’re my friend.”

She snorted. 

He shook his head vigorously. “Okay, no, let me finish.” 

Angelina sobered and nodded for him to go on. 

“I invited you because you are my friend. Because I like spending time with you, and I think we’ll have a good time. And because I like you,” he smiled at her, a genuine smile. 

She smiled back. “Alright, alright. I’ll get you some damn whiskey. You win.” 

“Angel Angelina,” he beamed. 

“Miss Johnson!” 

At the squeaky sound of Professor Flitwick’s voice, Angelina jumped and looked behind Fred. Flitwick was tottering dangerously in front of her friend, she could just see the tip of his hat poking up behind Fred's head.

“Yes, Professor?” she asked nervously, completely caught off guard. 

“I have been calling your and Mr. Weasley’s names for the past three minutes. Detention, both of you. Next time, try to sort out your personal lives outside of my class.” 

Angelina gaped at him as he moved on to continue the lesson. 

Fred leaned over. “I’m sorry, what even is the lesson today?”

Angelina couldn’t have told him if she wanted to. 

Well. She’d had a good run.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus detention! I think I'll post twice this week, so I'll see you Friday instead of Tuesday. :)


End file.
